“I—I don’t know how to thank you, Father!” stammered Dan, feeling that his blackened sky had suddenly burst into rainbow light.
“Don’t try,” was the kind answer. “I understand, Dan. God bless you, my boy!”
And, laying his hand for a moment on Dan’s sandy thatch of hair, Father Regan dismissed the case.
IV.—Aunt Winnie.
It was a delighted Dan that bounded down the broad staircase and took a flying leap from the stone portico of the great hall door.
“Hello!” said Jim Norris, who was lazily stretched on the grass, reading. “Is that a jump or a kick out?”
“A jump,” answered Dan, grinning: “though I was primed for the other, sure. How is Dudey’s nose?”
“Coming down,” said Jim, who was an easy-going mixer, whom everybody liked. “About the size and shape of a spring radish to-day. My, but he’s hot against you, Dan! Look out for him! Snake in the grass is nothing to Dud Fielding on the boil. Won’t even rattle fairly before he strikes.”
“Wouldn’t take the glad hand if I stretched it out to him and said I was sorry?” asked Dan. “Just now I feel like being at peace with everybody.”
“Not much!” said Jim, impressively. “Or if he did there would be a snake sting ready for you, all the same. I know Dud Fielding. He’ll get even with you if he dies for it.”